


A King and Her Knight

by StripedTie



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arturia Just Let Him Love You, Awkward Tension, Blunt Flirting, Camelot Shenanigans, Dorks in Love, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends making Dumb Jokes, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Summaries, Love Triangles, Overprotective Horse, sort of AU-ish, there's kinda a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-01-23 14:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12509712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripedTie/pseuds/StripedTie
Summary: You can't hide secrets from your best friend, it's just the way things are.On a trip to resolve an issue that's arisen, a certain gender related secret is revealed. When you throw that wrench into a friendship, it can't be surprising when other emotions start to blur lines- especially with someone so blunt with flirting.Keep it in your pants boy- there's an asshole to deal with and townsfolk to socialise with!





	1. Summer Rain

_  
_

_I ask of him only his friendship,  
_ _For I am in no situation to request anything more._   


   
   
It was simply a matter that the king preferred to deal with personally, the grievances had already dragged on long enough that even a mention of the name caused her hackles to rise. Best to sort it out face to face, so was her logic in that instance, before she wound up punching a messenger.  
   
The trek itself was welcomed, even if the destination was off-putting. The route scenic, it was not well travelled as its faded, narrow path showed. Green land stretched on both sides, separated by a deep gorge of the earth. When the wind was quiet, the rushing of the water below echoed a soothing song. Past the western trees the mountains stood tall, draped in a forest of green and brown from where the wilderness still ruled, hollows in the stone-side making natural caverns and alcoves.  
   
The horses were trotting on leisurely, a sign of the momentary peace the back road offered. Dun Stallion was relaxed, the equine seemingly happy just to escape the usual confines without being lead into battle. A strong white stallion that simply enjoyed time spent with his King, a good deal of intelligence working between his flicking ears.  
   
The accompanying horse however, did appear to have a disgruntled air about him. A dapple workhorse that the stable hands usually referred to as ‘Quiver’, his usual companion being a black mare aptly named Arrow. It wasn’t the equine or royal company the bothered the snorting beast, but simply its rider-  
   
Horses probably talked. The knight he carried did not have a good run with the steed he borrowed- it had been several times throughout the journey so far that he had tried to buck off the rider. Displeased with the weight, how he carried himself- really, horses in general simply didn’t seem to like Sir Lancelot.  
   
Another rough step and the dark haired knight nearly lost his balance, Quiver obviously trying to do his best on aiding him in falling. No reprieve today, Lancelot righting his position to the beast’s dismay, frustrated sigh escaping both the beast and the man’s lips.  
   
“I feel it would have been easier to send one of the messengers to get this sorted.” There was a grumble in his voice that caused Arturia to roll her eyes at the childishness. If it were by carriage or anything else, it would have been fine- Horses, the dislike appeared mutual.  
   
“I have been having Agravain deal with the discussions for the most part, but even with that hard-headedness, it seems to be trying to debate a brick wall. The alternative option was to have him come to us, but I’d rather not have him sully the ground.” The King was blunt with the words she chose, the situation having been one that her travelling companion had been blissfully ignorant of.  
   
He chuckled, adjusting his balance on the stallion once more. “My, you don’t like this lord, do you?”  
   
“Would-be lord, which is the issue.” She clicked her tongue in annoyance, both relieved letting her frustration out and displaying how simply ‘over’ this entire situation she was. “I’m firm on getting it through the cretin’s horrendously thick skull that I have no intention of reinitiating his rights to ownership; but I must be fair and diligent.”  
   
“He doesn’t sound the sort to deserve it.”  
   
“Not to this creature, to my poor men. Sir Agravain is likely to crack his own skull open if he has to deal with him one more time.” She glanced sideways, seeing Lancelot try to suppress his amusement. “It would not be an issue, but the manor’s rightful owner is away. I suppose brotherly love dictates that surely the Lord’s brother is just as suited for the job. Albeit the fact he was given the title after the former was… Forcefully made to step down.”  
   
He nodded, turning his gaze back to spy the overgrown path. For the most part he simply followed Arturia, whose eyes seemed keener than his in this greenery. Still, the tall grass and lack of visibility did raise his concerns, primarily due to the concealment that the area offered.  
   
“I feel it's foolish to come this way without bringing others.” He voiced the worry as unconcerned sounding as he could manage. It failed to be particularly effective, Arturia fairly keen on picking up these things by now.  
   
“I targeted the scenic route.” Matter-of-factly, confident as ever.  
   
A soft chortle, glancing about the foliage and settling his sights on the deep gorge that ran through the area beside them. “I can't find ledges and crevices in the sunken land to be all that pleasant to gaze upon.”  
   
“Drearily pessimistic today, am I dragging for from other engagements? Indulge your King a little, I do savour the company after all.” A grin, tossing a glance over her shoulder to see him look away to mask his own prideful smirk.  She raised her chin slightly, indicating towards the woodland opposite the more rugged side. “Continuing on, why would anyone think to search this path if their intentions for me were unpleasant? Doubtlessly a royal would favour the well-travelled roads.”  
   
“Perhaps someone else's Lord,” Her ears perked, returning her gaze to him. “But it is fact the King is known for going through undue hardships with no time for a respite!”  
   
Despite the jest in his tone, Arturia fell silent for some time, concentrating on the path ahead of them. It was a sore spot when pointed out, but like all others she had her reasons for living life how she did. A needless level of self-loathing, perhaps, but something she did not want to openly admit to outside of her own mind.  
   
The silence was uncomfortable, hanging off the edge of a one-sided joke that had been truthful and humourous to the knight. It was only as he opened his mouth to fumble some form of apology that the skies interrupted him, a flash of light and a loud rumbling from the clouds. Both raised their eyes to the grey sky.  
    
“... The clouds gathered quickly.”  
   
“No doubt brought on by that dreary demeanour.” The King hummed, lowering her head in time to avoid a few stray droplets. “I suppose I should have brought Sir Bedivere.”  
   
“I don't know how the weather would transcribe 'constant fretting' into its actions.” Lancelot snorted, pausing before laughing lightly. “One moment, are you're blaming me?”  
   
Arturia turned Dun Stallion to the tree line, horse breaking into a gallop as she ignored the question. As if to answer for her, the heavens opened up with a flooding downpour. Following a moment of hesitation, the knight and his horse followed suite.  
   
Even with the large evergreens and other miscellaneous coniferous trees, there was little shelter from the heavy rain. Momentarily he hadn’t any idea what his king was thinking, but the determined and planned path she took amongst the trees was reassuring that she had some plan in mind. He narrowly brought his own steed to a halt before bumping into the two as she pulled Dun Stallion to a sharp stop.  
   
Ah, that made sense- one of the conveniences of the area, the naturally forged shelters offered by the stony hills. It came a tad late, but it would minimise the newfound hardship. He’d watched the dismount, body instinctively jerking forward slightly when he saw her balance falter a fraction on the wet stones. She righted herself regardless, taking her horse’s reins and leading him to the mouth of the cave.  
   
“My Lord, wait one moment.”  
   
She paused, wiping the saturation from her fringe as best she could. Without the forward motion of movement, it was difficult to keep her gaze clear. The reins of the dapple horse were eased into her hand once Lancelot’s feet were on solid ground, the stallion’s demeanor immediately becoming less aggravated. Lancelot gave a light scoff at this before making his way into the dark interior.  
   
Only a few minutes elapsed after the knight’s entry into the cave before out run the echoes of tiny feet against the shelter’s floor, a flock of several feathered critters bursting past in a panic. The King and the steeds only watched in amusement as the smallest pheasant of the group toddled out after the others, apparently oblivious to what everyone else was so panicked about.  
   
“Alright, that perhaps was not my finest hour. Felt more like grabbing leaves in the wind’s current.” Arturia turned her attention back to the long-haired knight, holding in his grasp only three of the birds. “It would seem it’s vacated for the most part, now that the small snacks on long legs have run off into the rain.”  
   
“Odd that the lot was in there to begin with, I assume the heavy rains disrupted their usual nesting areas.” Arturia offered a shrug with her words, spying the brown plumaged females, one of them trying its darnedest to maneuver itself to peck at the man holding it captive. The other brown bird looked shocked, while the vibrantly coloured male looked as if he accepted death. “Harem critters. Having to deal with so many women, I think the lad is thankful you’re putting him out of his misery.”  
   
Lancelot gave them a shake, and the male remained listless and uncaring. He almost wanted to let the fighting female go; but a quick wiggle and hard beating of her wings let the bird take her fate back in her own claws as she broke free and plummeted to the floor, immediately darted away like a bat out of hell.  
   
The pair exchanged glances.  
   
“Certainly not your finest.”  
   
“She was the chosen one, off to join another harem and probably hen-peck the poor man!” He pondered on the thought as Arturia rolled her eyes. “Such a life doesn’t seem so bad, a bit enviable I have to say. I fear you have no sense of adventure if it’s not even remotely interesting as a concept…”  
   
She snorted, leaning her side against Dun Stallion. “What a cad you prove to be, Sir Lancelot. If you were feathered I can only imagine the scandals you would raise, chased by a bunch of pregnant hens.”  
   
Lancelot hesitated at the visual, turning back to the entrance. “Alright my liege, you made it unappealing! Although it’s neither here nor there of the matter- you need to get out of the cold.”  
   
The mention of it suddenly brought the heavy drizzling back to the forefront of Arturia’s mind, a shiver running through her as that present chill resurfaced. With a nod she entered the cave, willing both the steeds into the shelter. A few steps in the pair shook their pelts, soaking Arthuria through with another layer of moisture.  
   
She wiped what water she could from her brow, listening to Lancelot’s laughter. “What lovely boys you both are. At least if we get lost, I know we have rations.” One way or another she managed to secure their leads, enough slack left for them to be able to stay out of the downpour.  
   
Unloading the horses was an easy task, droplets continuing to leave a trail over the rocky flooring as she set about beginning a fire. Her fingers were still numb and chilled, the task a tad more difficult than it should have been as a result. It remained more appealing than plucking the now lifeless poultry, regardless.  
   
Arturia had turned her attention back to the kindling and flint when Lancelot spoke once more; “My King.”  
   
Her eyes flicked up from her work only a moment. “Yes, Sir Lancelot?”  
   
“I have to insist you take off your clothes.”  
   
Her fingers fumbled, the friction managing to send the one valued spark. Though the wood was lightly damp, it was nowhere near the saturation point as the king, the flames rising as she settled on her haunches. A relieved sigh left her lips as she felt the heat begin to build. “I am only lightly damp. The heat of the fire will suffice enough.”  
   
The lighthearted chuckle only made her feel more uneasy as he pushed the matter. “Are you afraid that I’m going to show you up? That feels more to be Gawain’s territory.”  
   
A huff- “Nonsense! I can grapple with any of my knights and come out on top, of that I have no doubt! I’ve no need to worry about being bested in that manner.” His King puffed their chest forward, a prideful boast of a peacock confident and reassured in their own display of beautiful feathers.  
   
“Then please, remove yourself from that damp mess.”  
   
Arturia grumbled- he was going to keep at it, she knew that. The fact she wasn’t wearing her armour should have been enough, yet at the same time she knew her mind was only making excuses now. At least there was some saving grace, if she could play it off…  
   
Her fingers fumbled with the ties of her shirt, blue easing off of her body with hesitant movements. It felt as if half the weight left her, waterlogged to the floor. She was so very, very uncomfortable, seated now in her bloomers and bindings. The King remained silent as she moved the garments closer to the flames; desperately willing them to dry faster than what was physically possible without the fire catching on.  
   
“Arthur, those bandages?”  
   
Her excuse had been rushed as soon as she realized they would be seen. “I was injured not too long ago. I didn’t wish for the attention, so Guinvere was kind enough to tend to me.”  
   
A beat passed, and Lancelot nodded. Internally she sighed in relief, tension leaving her shoulders a fraction as she savoured the heat. The crackling of fire, sound of the horses, the quiet working of Lance and the hunting trousse he’d packed. All heard lightly over the pouring rain outside. Her heart was still slowing down, but the sounds were therapeutic, combined without being chaotic.  
   
Her companion settled down beside the fire. Efficient enough work, really, birds plucked and oiled, spitted on some of the sturdier branches and propped upright to roast over the heat.  
   
Another light laugh.  
   
Arturia wore a thin frown, not hiding her glare at the knight. “What are you laughing at this time?”  
   
His laughter grew slightly as he was called out, waving his hand dismissively as he turned the birds a fraction. “It is nothing, I swear. I should be strung up for just having the thoughts occur.”  
   
“I will find adequate punishment for hiding such things. What raises this chuckling?”  
   
“I am sorry your majesty; it is simply hard to overlook given your short stature,” His King’s glaring did not particularly make him want to continue, although he was damned regardless. “Your physic is very feminine.”  
   
Arturia’s heart dropped to her stomach at the same speed that the colour drained from her face. She shifted awkwardly, the mannerisms earning another row of chuckling. She cleared her throat, keeping her eyes away from him now. “Yes, I agree. I think stringing you up would be most fitting for that remark.”  
   
“Ah, but you would miss me.” He countered, “And there would be no-one to cook for you on the stormy nights away from the inns.”  
   
“That excuse will only get you out of trouble for so long, be careful how you throw it around.” Haughty in her remark to say the least, but it rolled of off Lancelot like water off a duck’s back. All the bird remarks lately...  
   
The cooking didn’t take much longer, the meal simple with a bird between them both. It was no surprise at all where the larger male round up. At some point Arturia let her hair down to take advantage of the heat, locks slightly wavy from the rain. It only brought another chuckle from Lancelot, and she threatened to throw a small rib bone at him.  
   
The conversation was small and pleasant otherwise- Lancelot drew what little information he could about their destination. They were heading for the land around a particular manor, to deal with a man temporarily in charge of that region. A younger gent who’s name left his king’s tongue bitter- Bardolf.  Fulchard, the younger brother, had already proven that he was more suited to take up as the Lord of the manor, despite his younger years.  
   
An absence, unfortunately, had just wound up with a repeated situation. Bardolf back up top, and almost secretive in the location of his brother when questions were raised.  
   
“Is there any fear for the younger lad’s safety?”  
   
Arturia took a swig from her leather canteen. “I do not believe so. My guess is that he’s flighty about the information just to make it difficult to contact the lord and raise my queries. From what I recall, Fulchard had a certain naivety to him. I can not imagine any other maddening reason why he would so willingly allow his brother to hold the fort for him.”  
   
She shook her head as both finished their meals, seemingly tired of the discussion. “Thank you for that.” Lancelot gave a simple nod, sorting out the scraps while Arturia fetched the bedrolls from the horses.  
   
“My King, your bandages are still damp.”  
   
Arturia threw his bedroll at him, more forceful than called for. “They will be fine. Drop it.”  
   
“Hmph, and risk a scolding from Sir Kay? I'd sooner jump into one of the ravines.” He set it down as Arturia tended to her own sleeping affairs, his hands at the tie of the binding before she could turn to make a remark. A shout of protest rung out instead, loud and obviously startled- Lancelot’s body jolted in surprise at the response, but the cotton had already unraveled.  
   
Arturia threw herself roughly against the bedding, face down to hide her chest. Still shocked, Lancelot hadn’t moved an inch and only looked on dumbfounded. The King’s voice was muffled with her face pressed against the wool, and it did well to hide the redness of her cheeks. “I sleep on my stomach. I am comfortable.” She very nearly followed with the crass statement 'now piss off'.  
   
The absurdity only caused her companion to laugh heartily, jeering that the time in damp clothes already had them feverish. She nestled firmly down as Lancelot tended to the fire, stripping off his unneeded and still damp attire to leave it to dry before returning to his own sleeping arrangements. The only other words he heard from Arturia were grumpy and indiscernible.  
 

* * *

   
In the middle of the night, Lancelot woke with his eyes cast to the soft embers of the fire. A brisk air was already returning through the caves entrance. With a sigh he rose, adding more kindling to the fire and stirring the flames back to life. If the heat did not dry their clothes through the night, it would just be further daylight wasted come morning.  
   
\-- And most probably more odd behaviour from his King. He snorted at the fact, tossing a glance to his slumbering friend, ready to return to sleep.  
   
He did a double take, nearly cracking his neck from whiplash.  
   
It was apparent the King actually favoured sleeping on her back, one arm resting across her stomach and the other by her head as she dozed. The heavy sheets had covered her hips, but left her small breasts on display.  
   
Lancelot slumped onto the ground, staring even as the crackling of fire hurt his eyes. Through the dancing of the flames, he saw his beloved King in a whole new, confusing light.  
 


	2. In A State

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so our journey continues...

Arturia awoke with the first rays of the sun, willed up by the sheer desire to not be seen applying her bindings. Lancelot feigned sleep while she grabbed the dried bandages, thankful for the fire that had burned through most of the night. Her rushing caused more trouble than necessary, repeatedly having to pause and calm herself as her fingers fumbled, forced to start over several times.  
   
It would have been much easier to put a stop to the charade, but Lancelot continued to keep his eyes closed tightly shut with his back towards his king. He hadn’t managed to gain an ounce of sleep since the incident, and he still wasn’t keen on addressing it.  
   
Finally satisfied with the utmost time wrapping the cotton across her chest and after dressing promptly, the king set about cleaning up the campfire and repacking the horse's saddlebags. Lancelot could have risen at that point, but each time he tried to raise his body all he could feel was dead weight. There was no ignoring this, he didn’t know how to address it, how would either of them act? Was there any way to politely call his king out about it? Did it cha—  
   
A kick to his side brought him out of the pointless thoughts, as well as bringing about the air from his lungs, ‘Oomph!’  
   
“No maiden is around to see you parade around shirtless, get up.”  
   
Maiden? Lancelot groaned, wanting to curl in on himself. He let out a ‘lazy’ sigh as Arturia continued with her own business, Lancelot fittingly very lazy in his motions of getting up. Lethargic may have been more suited – each time he glanced towards Arturia it was near impossible not to hold her to the feminine standards in his mind. “Lord, this is punishment for many, many things, isn’t it?”  
   
“Stop complaining!”  
   
Everything was good to go by the time he got his act together, the knight still sullen and lacklustre in his stride as he sat on the grumpy Quiver, that mood and lack of eye contact still carrying on as they rode out. The king had ignored this initially, but as the dampened mood only soured further through the trip, she found herself needing to pry.  
   
“What's troubling you?”  
   
Lancelot paused for longer than he should have. The knight shook his head, eyes still situated on the horse’s mane. “No, I’m fairing fine. Please do not be concerned.”  
   
“Whilst you can say that, I think I know you well enough to call such a statement as false.”  
   
There was another uncomfortable pause, Arturia puzzled about what could have happened between the night prior and the morning.  The knight’s gaze remained away from her, even as she moved closer to his steed with a skeptical expression. “Were you perhaps bitten by something during the night?”   
   
“Not by anything conventional.” He shrugged, attempting weakly to brush it off.  
   
“Oh? You’ve perked my interests.”  
   
He clenched his teeth tightly, skin along his jawline taut. “I am sorry to disappoint but it’s nothing important enough to garner much of any attention.”  
   
Momentarily that appeared to be enough, a sigh and the turn of Arturia’s attention back to the terrain- but it was only a small respite, her features having softened when she looked back to catch his eye briefly. He nearly choked.  
   
“Come now, don’t keep secrets from me. We're fri---“  
   
That was the limit- “Keep secrets? You’re the one with breasts!!”  
   
Not a beat passed before the king pulled Dun Stallion to a halt, expression blank and chilly as she stared off into the void. Silence conquered the air as she dismounted, not returning eye contact back to the knight as she began walking away from them. “I think I shall throw myself into that ravine you mentioned earlier. Send Guinevere my love.”  
   
"What? Arthur!” Both horses - manned or otherwise - made a dive for the king, Dun Stallion using his body to prevent Arturia from heading any further towards the cliffs. “Don’t joke about such things!”  
   
Her shoulders slumped as she tried to push the lug of a horse out of her way, only cursing as Lancelot grabbed her by the scruff (which was quite a feat, given the king’s short stature and the additional height offered by Quiver). Looking over her shoulder, the level of her seriousness now made him uneasy- knitted brow, worried eyes and a firm frown. The air inherited the prior chill that Arturia had exhibited, not warming in the slightest as she spoke up. “Lancelot. If you wish to return, I will not hold it against you.” With a deep sigh she turned her sights away from him once more, pulling away only lightly to test his grasp- when his fingers didn’t uncurl, she continued. “I only request, as your friend and your King, that this does not leave your lips.”  
   
Lancelot's response was immediate, his own sigh more exasperated and heavier than that of the king’s. His hand released her, instead pinching the bridge of his nose. “… Do not be daft. Take your darned horse, Arthur.”  
   
She didn’t budge, heels digging into the ground firmly. She gently pat Dun Stallion’s mane as he nudged his snout against her, the equine obviously worried.  
   
“I cannot expect you to just overlook something like this.” Her body turned to face him, eyes still downcast and fingers continuing to trace her horse’s mane when his long face rested over her shoulder.  
   
Lancelot couldn’t say he expected the situation to have gone differently- he hadn’t known how it would go at all, cursing his mouth for speaking out of line. Regardless, he would remedy this ill feeling. “On more than one occasion I have uttered, ‘I will follow my king to the ends of the world’. I do not intend to ever go back on these words. But…”   
Not even a hint of that frown letting up.  
   
“Before I can come to terms with this development, I need to ask you something.”  
   
Arturia’s eyes flicked up sadly, head refusing to rise. He was sure for a moment she may threaten to tear up, and there was a particular prang in his heart he couldn’t place- he only wished for that expression to brighten. Her gaze was all she offered to will on his words.  
   
“What reasons do you have, for not telling me? Do you mistrust me?”   
“It is not a secret I enjoy keeping, even if it is a necessary one.” He had to strain to hear her, meekness and shame seeping into her voice.  
   
“That isn’t my question!” his raised tone caused her to flinch, unprepared for the reprimand. “Why would you chose not to tell me?!” Visibly the king hesitated, eyes lowering again. He waited patiently as she ground her teeth together, hoping for the situation to disappear into the ether. When it refused to, Arturia swallowed the knot in her throat and offered the truth with the few words that would form.  
   
“I feared your judgment.”  
   
On this occasion Lancelot fell quiet, turning to the path. The silence carried on for an uncomfortable amount of time, Arturia’s hesitancy continuing as she interrupted. “Lancelot…”  
   
“My lord, please be silent.” He clenched his eyes shut, breathing in sharply through his nostrils. “I’m---“  
   
“Angered, I imagine.”  
   
Why must she speak up? The conclusions she jumped to weren’t at all what he was trying to get across. “For you to think that of me… No. Arthur, I’m utterly gutted.” He saw her body tense slightly, at attention with confusion. “I cannot say I would not have been hesitant when we first met, but to have kept this from me for so long! My King, please do not mistake my shock for anything but just that. It would take far more than this to shake my loyalty!”  
   
Her shoulders raised, the building tension easing the friction but not her stress. Lancelot watched cautiously, prepared to make another grab for her as she turned away- thankfully, she did so only to return to her seat atop Dun Stallion. She was still uneasy carrying herself even with the former assurance, but her clearer tone made it obvious she was making her best attempt. “Then I say that we carry on as things were. This never happened.”  
   
Although he nodded, the knight was fully aware there was no way he would be able to scrub this from his consciousness; Carry on as things were, that was hopeless. Yet the king had warmed slightly, and for now that was enough for him.  
   
***  
   
Lancelot put his best foot forward moving on, wearing the mask of relative normalcy the best he could manage. He was unsure whether he was doing an admirable job, or if his king was simply choosing to ignore his odd behaviour. They’d covered a considerable distance, even if the exact amount between themselves and the manor was unknown to him. With the sun hitting its highest point for the day, Arturia hailed for them to halt, a demand all involved did without question.  
   
“The horses have earned a break, here seems optimal.”  
   
Lancelot gave pause, not seeing anything immediately in the brush to indicate his kings conclusion. He closed his eyes a moment, long enough to concentrate his hearing; flowing water. He pulled Quiver’s reins, quietly impressed but not at all surprised that Arturia had picked up on the sound of the stream.  
   
They set the horses beside the flowing water, both stallions content enough to munch away at the overgrown grass that hung back not too far from the shoreline. Arturia slumped down by the edge of the stream, removing her boots and checking the water with a tip of her finger. Cold to the touch but refreshing nonetheless, she wasted no time refilling their water supplies from the fresh source.  
   
“Sir Lancelot.”  
   
The man hesitated- he’d managed to catch himself staring absentmindedly at the blonde only after she’d spoken his name, but it was thankfully overlooked by Arturia herself. “Yes, my Lord?”  
   
“Would you set a fire? Dug into the ground, please.”  
   
“Hm? Certainly. What exactly are you planning?” Going about the request, he continued to toss subtle glances back in Arturia’s direction as she rose to her feet.  
   
There was a quiet joy of being able to feel the soft grass, that simple pleasure delaying her actions until the words registered. Digging through Dun Stallion’s saddle bag, she retrieved one of the harder loaves of bread and began to tear off small sections. “Simply to solve the fact we’ve neglected breakfast this morning, even if it’s a tad late now.”  
   
Lancelot hummed a moment, unable to avoid garnering a quick laugh for himself. “Those are some dreadfully small rations, are you trying to say something about my weight?” He snorted, only more entertained as Arturia looked at him, obviously unimpressed.  
   
“I intend to catch us fish, idiot.”  
   
Over his small bout of chuckles for the most part, he still had to swallow another laugh as he returned to ‘serious’ mode. “Arthur, I don’t think we've packed any of the equipment required for that.”    
   
“On the contrary!” Lance raised a brow, Arturia scattered the shredded pieces of bread along the water’s surface. “I’ve thought this through well enough that it shalln’t be an issue.”  
   
“Really now? Do you intent to grab eels with your hands?”  
   
“Careful, your smartass is showing.” The chuckling bout returned pretty quickly with that, Arturia shaking her head as she turned to the stream.   
Without an ounce of hesitancy, the king descended into the water, immediately feeling the moderate push of the current. Everything below her hips remained submerged thanks to her height, yet it obviously did nothing to fuss her. Lancelot was too dumbfounded to say anything, only watched for the few minutes of silence that Arturia studied the floating crumbs and the shadows that begun to circle and loom underneath them, her hands hidden under the water against the blue of her gown.  
   
Lancelot crossed his arms, curious more than anything else about what she was up to- he wasn’t looking forward to when she emerged, waterlogged from the waist down. His sigh was loud, Arturia hissing a sharp ‘tsst!’ in response. “What?”  
   
“You’ll startle…” In a sudden, fluid movement Arturia moved forward against the stream, arms raising up and bringing the hem of her dress with them- as well as a considerable amount of water. Yet along with all this came several fish, caught up in the makeshift net. Bunching the fabric up tightly she held the gathered material against her chest, effectively keeping all but one or two of the slippery creatures captive. Her smirk was broad as she turned towards Lancelot, legs heavy from the water as she trudged her way back onto the grass.  
   
“Well then, I’m sorry for judging you!” Even with a snort, it was obvious that he was impressed by the uncouth yet efficient technique. “How do you plan on dividing them up?”  
   
The smirk remained as she sauntered past him, taking a moment to inspect the constructed campfire- good enough. “You thought the king was just losing his mind, why should I share any with you?”  
   
“Because you are a kindly king who wouldn’t let someone starve in front of them.”   
   
“You didn't miss a beat with that Sir Lancelot, but you have forgotten one thing!” She released the small collection of roach fish onto the ground, a few droplets of water summoning a light hiss from the flames. “But you’re not ‘someone’. You are Sir Lancelot.”  
   
“I fail to see how that makes any difference!” One of the scaly creatures was thrown into his face as an adequate response.   
   
“Work for your food and fillet these.”  
“Did you wish for me to murder them first?”  
   
“Without prejudice, if you please.”   
   
Something to eat did sound appealing, and arguing wouldn’t quicken how soon he gained lunch. The efforts might have been mistaken as half-hearted, but the knight simply remained more distracted- watching the blonde flitter around the grass and rocks, coming back with an armful of moss.  
   
“My king, I think you may be losing your mind for a second time today.”  
   
“That’s another portion for me.”  
   
“How cruel my lord is!”  
   
Arturia made no attempt at hiding her amusement at the melodramatic response, laughing lightly while swiping the slices of fish from him. Lancelot huffed playfully in return, eying the scene with curiousity.  
   
Layering three thicker sticks above the holed fire, the slices of fish were placed onto the topside of the moss- wrapped up loosely, the package balanced on the supporting sticks. An exchange of raised brows and another smirk of the king, Arturia leaning back and relaxing without giving any answers to the silent questions.  
   
A beat passed, air filled with the sounds of the crackling fire while steam and smoke began to dance from the moss.  
“Aren’t you uncomfortable?”  
   
“Incredibly!” It was difficult not to laugh at the honesty of her response. “But it got something to settle my stomach, so I will not complain about it.”  
    
Lancelot tilted his head towards the horses, “And that oversized donkey won’t mind?”  
   
“I’ll ignore his complaints as I do yours on a regular basis, unless you feel generous enough to offer me your pants instead.” She shrugged, turning over the moss- pulling her hand back quickly once done- the moisture from the plant didn’t make the heat too bad, but it still stung against her skin.  
   
“Arthur, there are far easier ways to get into my pants.”  
  
When the pause hung long enough, Lancelot thought that she might just take him up on some form of offer. However his king’s cheeks puffed, and he laughed at her visage of an angry kitten.  
   
“Come over here so I can hit you!” He leaned back just enough to avoid her swipe at the air, laughing loudly as she made a few more attempts at his face. With a frustrated grunt she composed herself, hands resting in her lap with her back straightened; obviously still bristly and uncomfortable about it. “Well for that, you can go grab one of the sheets so I can attempt to pat myself dry. What was it earlier? Something along the lines of heaven forbidding I catch a cold or some other nonsense.”   
A chuckled response of ‘Yes, milord’ and he once more followed instructions- to the best he could. As he headed over to the horses both equines glared, making no attempt to hide their animalistic suspicion. The sooner he was done with these meddling beasts the better- unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the situation as he reached for Dun Stallion’s saddlebag. The horse leaned its whole body away from him, and if it had the capability to hiss it certainly would have.  
   
Lancelot paused, hand still hovering where the bag  _should_  have been. “Arthur.”  
   
Another flip of the moss. “I’ll hear none of it, you’re not going to be bested by a stallion are you? Take it as your punishment.” The firmness of her voice didn’t hide the huff she continued to display.  
   
He sighed, making another grab- and Dun Stallion took a step back, shaking his head. When the reins were grabbed the white horse reared back; and he would have taken a step further, if it weren’t for the river-  
   
Down like a sack of bricks, knight just managing to stagger back and avoid the large wave of water that sprung up because of the horse’s form, as well as the further splash of the disturbed stream, Dun Stallion thrashed around trying to find his hooves.  
   
“I hope you know you deserve that.”  
   
“Are you seriously trying to belittle a horse?!”  
   
His body jolted as Arturia shoved her side against him, pushing past and moving to aid her steed out of his panic. With crossed arms and a firm frown Lancelot watched, the task taking only a few seconds- it appeared that as soon as Dun Stallion realised his owner was there he calmed, helped along with his shaky steps against the river stones until he was back on  _relatively_  dry land.  
   
Lancelot raised his hands defensively as she shot a glare and tried to keep her dampened fringe out of her eyes. “I know I know, I had but one job. Granted, my king must realise that this was the punishment he chose to give me.”  
   
“ _Please_  take the fish off the fire.”  
   
“Ah see, that is a task I can do with ease!” He was hit with another small fish that the king had managed to grab whilst submerged a second time- at least she didn’t seem overly bitter about the whole mess, just slightly miserable with the wet state she found herself in.  
   
Despite the situation the roach was still shared fairly equally. Lancelot remained quietly surprised by the fact lunch was both cooked through well, and that the fish proved to be quite nice in flavour. He made a mental note of the moss technique, even if he would continue to badger Arturia for the oddity.  
 

* * *

  
   
The sky had begun to cloud as they travelled on, the darkened grey hue threatening to repeat the unpleasantries of the day prior. Given Arturia’s already dampened attire, it was agreed upon that they would not challenge the weather to make the conditions more sodden and sullied.  
   
While the fire had picked up a steady pace, sheltered in another natural alcove of the mountainside, it wouldn’t bring any dryness to her belongings for some time- Not that she brought much other than necessities. Thankfully the initial letter mattered little now, so the running ink garnered no attention. Just another reminder that this hadn’t been her finest idea.  
   
Difficult not to grumble about the whole thing. At least with knowledge about her particular secret out there, she didn’t need to hesitate.  
   
While Arturia had no grievances undressing, Lancelot nearly passed out when more layers were removed without a single consideration for his reaction. “Arthur!”  
   
She paused, confusion clear on her features as she halted with her pants past her hips. “What’s wrong?” The knight immediately averted his gaze, it took a moment for her to add things up; and she only laughed when she did. “I've seen you and the others parade around like cock-of-the-walk on how many occasions?”  
   
“My king, I beg you to use different terms in this case... And please dress yourself!” He could only catch the sight from the corner of his eye, despite his best efforts.  _‘It is not a modesty issue, it’s my lack of control...’  
_    
The further laughing did little to help his situation, Arturia ignoring the pleading as she continued, removing her bindings and placing it with the rest of her garments. Two beats, nothing left to cover the king’s feminine frame. Lancelot whined.  
   
“You never struck me as one to be scared of a woman’s chest!”  
   
He instinctively turned for a rebuttal, freezing outright upon the sight. My, she was bold for someone that had been keeping this whole issue secret. It didn’t ease the tension for the poor knight, however. “It is my king’s chest! Is this vengeance for something?!”  
   
Arturia sat herself by the fire, far too pleased watching the man in his embarrassment. It was a rare sight after all, even for someone who had the best friend card to see. “More likely than not, otherwise easily a pre-emptive strike for some of the lunacy that passes through that mind of yours. Still, if you are uncomfortable…”  
   
She raised her knees to cover her chest, seeing him flinch at the view it offered before moving her legs to stay tightly together and block any sight of her nether region. Turning to hide the tinge of red across his cheeks, he quickly grabbed one of the sheets from his own bag and threw it at her- It was only thin, but the knight was begging for relief; one way or the other.   
   
“You are gaining far too much joy from my suffering.”  
    
“My body is that unappealing to you?” Arturia asked this very casually as she covered herself, the flames continuing to illuminate her figure through the material.  
   
In turn Lance stumbled over his words, finding no comfort in his kings entertained grin. “That— You--- How unbecoming for you to be so casual with it all!”  
   
It was difficult to hear the words at first, choked out between laughter. At least  _she_  was having a good time of it all. “Forgive me, I can never say I’ll have the chance again to see you so flustered!” Excusing Lancelot from his need of to retaliate, it was Arturia’s stomach that interrupted.  
   
“I should never be surprised, yet here I am.”  
   
With a light huff Arturia poked her tongue out at him. “I should have made a third trip into the water- I suppose no supper tonight.”  
   
Feeling more calmed with the subject change, the knight shook his head with a light chuckle. "Don't be foolish. Be ignorant of it, but we're all fully aware the Kings appetite is as immense as  _his strength_." Lancelot gave pause, looking towards Arturia with eyes hinting concern. She read his question and nodded- a soft sigh passed his lips in relief as he reached back into his bag and retrieved a square object.  
   
It was a small box, slightly worn but the carvings into it still distinguishable. Just a small Gyngerbrede box.  
   
The Kings excitement seeing the hidden stash didn't help Lancelot's current internal struggle.   
  
Eyes lit up with joy, soft lips slightly parted and a light bounce in her movement while eagerly reaching forward. He hadn't given her slender fingers much notice before this point, and was thankful her spare hand was used to keep the sheet around her body.   
   
It was only after she whined impatiently that he snapped out of his daze of admiration and back to reality, passing the box to the king’s waiting hand. She sat down and opened the box faster than his mind could register.  
   
“I was half expecting them to be heart shaped.”  
   
Lancelot waved his hand dismissively. “They are ill-gotten gains, so certainly not a gift from any lady friend.”  
   
“Gawain?” Lancelot nodded, she snorted. “Such a thief! First Quiver, now this.”  
   
“Both well justified.” He crossed his arms, leaning back and watching as the king busied herself with the box’s contents. Even if she didn't notice, there was still a wiggle of excitement as she was seated, placing one of the small square treats into her mouth.    
The small blonde practically purring as the first layer of honey melted away. While these were palate cleansers for the most part, they were high on the list of things the King enjoyed mindlessly snacking on.  
   
“You’re letting your feminity slip.”  
   
“Mm?” Arturia was only distracted a moment, hand hovering over a second spiced sweet. Showing some form of restraint, she raised her hand over her mouth. “I apologize, in the company of my horses and a friend it is nice to drop the façade. Granted, I don’t think I drop the male mask too much…”  
   
“If I had held these out of your reach a tad longer I think you may have begun wiggling your rump, or I could have easily led you onto my lap.” He ignored the sharp glare, pondering over his own words a moment. “I think we just put that cute eagerness down to your youth half the time.”  
   
The king bristled at the term, perking Lancelot’s curiousity with her straightened back and clenched fist. If the grip was any firmer the box may have crumbled.  
  
“My king, did I hit a ner—“   
  
“Please refrain from describing me as such- and I certainly would not, you’re letting your shameful imagination run recklessly wild.”  
   
He leans forward slightly, smirking. Arturia immediately hated the expression he wore- “And why might that be?”  
   
She placed another of the gyngebrede pieces into her mouth, refusing to grant him eye contact. She remained quiet, trying to ignore him but his leering and smirking continued, not letting up. He’d become fairly emboldened over such a short time. She swallowed the sweet layer dryly and tucked the remaining bread and spices into her cheek, resting the box against her lap.  
   
“If another were to hear you call me such a thing, it could cause an issue.”  
   
“Who would tell, the horses?”  
   
“Dun Stallion! Tell me, is Sir Lancelot a fancier of men? One hoof beat for no, two for yes.”  
   
The large stallion’s ears flicked at his name, pawing at the ground twice.   
   
“That beast cannot testify in court! Besides, it’s hardly a believable argument, we all know that damned thing has it out for me.”  
   
Dun Stallion whinnied in agreement, Quiver enthusiastically nodding his head up and down.  
   
"You hear that? Contempt for the court!" Arturia leaned forward and hit him upside the head, “Ow.”  
   
After that the night carried on fairly quietly, particularly with Lancelot tearing his gaze away whenever he caught himself staring- which was quite often. Admittedly Arturia was tempted to get close to his face and demand to not be ignored, but he was likely to suffer a heart attack at this rate.  
Arturia checked her bedding; much like her clothes, their dampness had barely yield. Still dreadfully wet. She sighed deeply- Lancelot cleared his throat. "My lord."  
   
“Mm?”  
  
“You are not going to like my solution.”  
  
“I already do not like that assuredness.” She glanced the fire, wondering if she could get away with throwing it all alight at this point. “Out with it.”  
  
“I believe we will have to share the same bed.”  
   
The air chilled once again. “You are correct, I do not like that notion.” Arturia tightened her hold on the sheet, refusing to meet his eyes. “And I should have you sleep beside the horses for the suggestion alone.”  
   
Lancelot nodded, maintaining his calmness to the extend his body would allow. A deep breath in, trying to swallow his hesitancy. “My King, simply borrow my heat for the night.”  
  
Obviously skeptical, she looked him up and down. He didn’t fault her for doubting his sincerity, not with how things were. Honestly, with how much she knew about him- and let him get away with on a good day.  
  
“My only condition is don't make this weird.” There was less venom in it than he had anticipated. That was nice.  
   
He beamed a little too brightly for Arturia’s liking, getting up and beginning to lay things out as she snuck another gyngerbrede past her lips. Her brow only lowered at his apparent enthusiasm.  
   
“My lord, this would be weird only if you were male.”  
   
“I would have my space if I were. You couldn’t put off finding out for, say, another fifteen years?” she placed the box with her own belongings, it seemed like good compensation for the situation.  
   
“King’s first.”  
   
“You’re pushing it.” The hiss in her tone was particularly pronounced, wanting to drape the thicker bedding over her face even with the chance of suffocation. Awkwardly settling in, she only raised it up to her eyes, continuing to glare daggers.  
   
Lancelot hummed nonchalantly, for another night removing his own heavier layers of clothing. As his fingers raised the hem of his shirt, Arturia sat up and pulled it back down.  
   
“Shirt stays  _on_.”  
   
Lancelot’s mouth twisted slightly, trying to prevent a smirk. “I’ll overheat.” He pleaded simply, Arturia’s shoulders tensing at his attempt to hide the playful tone.  
   
“I do not care. You could easily give it to me instead.”  
   
He conveniently ignored this suggestion. “Very cruel today, Arthur.”  
   
Arturia moved her body as far away as possible, but it was a futile attempt. This unfortunately for her was a close set-up by nature, and the cold floor was only less appealing by a small fraction. Still wrapped up in the single sheet, limited to herself thankfully, she forcefully pushed away Lancelots arm as it draped over her waist- although it only returned, Arturia inhaling deeply as she counted to five in her head.  
   
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”  
   
“Yes, I am.” Not even an attempt to deny it, cheeky bastard.  
   
“I plan on throwing you off the barracks once we return.”  
   
“That is fair.”  
   
Then it was silence. It may have only been a few minutes, but it dragged on for far too long. Arturia reached her limit quickly, clicking her tongue and speaking bluntly as Lancelot glanced over the restless king. “Lancelot.”  
   
“What am I doing?” She really wanted to punch him for how innocent he played.  
   
“I refuse to dignify your erection with an answer.”  
   
His laugh earned an elbow to the stomach, but even winded he clearly wasn’t offput. “Remedying this situation is out of my control.”  
   
“Truly? Show some restraint!”  
   
He was doing plenty of that, even if his king wasn’t at all aware. “Arthur, I am but a simple man.”  
    
“I expect no less from you, but I am disappointed all the same.” With some wiggling she managed to shift upwards, pressing against his chin and securing that she'd moved comfortably away from his hips. Being short had advantages at times. She threw her head back hard to bash against his jaw when she heard the low chuckling. 'Ow.' More bemused than hurt, it satisfied Arturia regardless. “Be quiet and let me  _attempt_  to sleep.”  
   
“As you wish, my lord.” He tried his hardest not to laugh at her muttering, but only earned himself another headbutt.  
 

* * *

  
   
The fire begun to dull at one point in the night- the mild chill to her front stirring Arturia from her sleep. Her back was pleasantly warm, if the situation wasn't so awkward she may have considered the spooning comfy.   
Alas, her body ached a fraction from her inability to move. The idea of taking a moment to bring the fire further back to life was welcomed, even if it were just an excuse to stretch her limbs.  
   
Moving forward however she was quickly halted. Admittedly perplexed, she quickly noted it was Lancelot’s solid grip around her waist that prevented her getting anywhere- and the drool on her shoulder proved the knight was dead to the world. A few more futile attempts to yank herself out of his hold, palms pressing deep into the bedding while trying to free herself- no luck.  
   
Arturia slumped back down with a huff. “This is utterly ridiculous, I’m not a damned comfort blanket.” One more push forward… Nope, this was a hopeless endeavour. With a good deal of effort her fingertips brushed one of the stray sticks, clawing it into her grasp enough that she could prod the flames higher. She wearily eyed her clothing and hoped for a dry sky and fast trip the next day.

Being awake added insult to the situation, fully conscious now as the man nuzzled against her lovingly in his sleep, hold on her never letting up. Her angry grumbling went unheard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took longer to put together than I anticipated, seems like each one's just getting longer the more I work on it. That's alright, though I might be splitting a few later on chapters for that reason.  
> I'm gonna go pass out now.


	3. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horseback ride coming to an end, but the awkwardness- not so much.

_It was one of the few moments that Arturia looked vulnerable in his eyes- she'd only just moments early moved her arms to reveal herself, red tint still present across her cheeks.  
_ _  
_ _It was a lovely view – blonde hair that framed her pretty face, bright blue eyes that met his gaze and matched the intensity of his own. A body that even now showed evidence of the many years she had spent training, honing her skills and strength to their limits. Her muscles were well defined under her skin, slightly less visible now given the past year's events. Light freckling decorated across her like flecks on a canvas, the sun having left its praises across her. She was not as smooth to the touch as some, but she felt wonderful under his fingertips all the same.  
_ _  
_ _It was laughable in a way, the fact that he had always put down the king's femininity to bad luck and short stature. Her frame only apparent like this, the times when her clothes and armour were discarded in favour of the warmth offered by his company.  
_ _  
_ _He ran his hand down her side. She shivered, arching her back off of the bed. The way she bit her lip, blushing profusely from the closeness. It was the things like this that made it hard for him to show restraint.  
_ _  
_ _Hovering above his king and feeling as she wrapped her legs around his waist, it left no doubt in his mind that this was right.  
_ _  
_ _Warm lips on hers, pressing her chest against him; something was so soothing about the feeling of skin against skin, the flushed heat offered from both their bodies. She grunted lightly in annoyance, earning a raised brow from Lancelot as he parted from her. Her hand gripped his hair, tugging the dark locks as she huffed.  
_ _  
_ _"Take off your damned pants already…"  
_ _  
_ _He smirked. "Is that a direct order from the king?"  
_ _  
_ _Arturia’s free hand played with the loose sheets, "It is a direct order from your---"  
_ _  
_ _The playing was interrupted by a loud crying, at that moment Lancelot's attention heightened as he threw his gaze to the slightly ajar door. His partner’s eyes followed his before they both returned to look at one another.  
_ _  
_ _The king’s expression was apologetic, smiling sheepishly. “Goodness, she’s been so restless lately… Could you get her back to sleep?”  
_ _  
_ _“Of course,” He pressed another kiss on her lips, more settled than before as she released her hold on him. “As long as you do not fall asleep as well.”  
_ _  
_ _“No no, I’ll be waiting.” One last kiss stolen before he moved out of her reach, Arturia simply lying on her side and watching as he moved from the bed and retrieved the shirt he’d abandoned earlier that night. For once it paid off that he’d remained partially clothed.  
_ _  
_ _The cries had caused his paternal instinct to kick into high gear- The pitch at the height of each sob wounding him as he headed to the doors. Stepping through, the cries quickly turned into an excited little laugh. The sound immediately calmed him, eyes softening as he glanced past the toy littered floor and at the crib. There was no way he couldn’t smile seeing her.  
_ _  
_ _Small. Innocent._ _His.  
   
The little girl tried pulling herself up to standing with the aid of the crib’s bars, but it was still a feat just out of her grasp. How old was she now? It was hazy- he wasn’t sure when milestones like that were hit. The child babbled excitedly, arms reaching up to her father.  
   
Even if she was giggling and happy now, her eyes were still red and puffy from her earlier tears. He leaned over the crib side, picking up the little one and bouncing her to sooth any further fussiness. “Now let’s see, what was it that upset my little girl?”  
   
She didn’t take much notice of his words, happy just to hear her dad’s voice and opting instead to chew on his hair - Ah, yes, this one was going to be a daddy’s girl for sure.  
   
It didn't take him too long to spot it, her little sleeping companion lying on the floor.  
   
It was a white furred plush, at that point nearly the size of his daughter. Some sort of cross between a fox and a squirrel, whatever it truly was escaped him. Regardless, it was evident that she adored it, constantly pulling free its little jacket and futilely trying to tie the red ribbon up again for hours on end. She fussed and refused to sleep unless it was nestled beside her at night, only relenting if she cried herself to sleep. It was the sort of thing her parents didn’t have the heart to bear.  
   
He only had to kneel slightly to scoop it off the ground, standing upright and dancing it in front of his daughter’s gaze.  
   
"Did you lose someone, sweetheart?"  
   
She discarded her father's hair, immediately leaning forward with tiny hands, grabbing motions made with little fingers. Her eyes were transfixed on her friend as he was returned to her grasp, cuddling the creature closely and chewing on its ear.  
   
"Now try not to get upset and throw him away again, okay?" He set her back down in the crib, pulling the blankets up and kissing her forehead. "Goodnight darling, daddy loves you."  
   
Emergency solved, he took one step towards the door before being distracted- A loud, disgruntled neigh from the back of the room. He whipped his head around to see--  
   
"You!" He threw his arms up, storming over to Arturia's horse who decided to just appear out of the ether. "Does she sneak you through the window or something? Good lord."  
   
Dun Stallion snorted, shuffling back as the knight attempted to grab hold of his reins– he whipped his head back and forth efficiently keeping his freedom while listening to the child's giggling. Of course, the knight wasn’t fast enough to avoid the horse's counter-attack- a hard chomp the forearm---  
 _ __  


* * *

  
   
"---What are you doing?!"  
   
Lancelot jerked his arm, managing to free himself from Arturia's teeth but certainly not dissuading his tired shock.  
   
"Unhand me already!!" Seeing an opening the king tried to move out of his grasp, although as the night prior it proved to be to no avail. "I've been trying to wake you for the last twenty minutes! No wonder you're repeatedly late to training!!"  
   
Feeling her attempted escape he only tightened his hold as a punishment. She huffed loudly, slumping down when her clawing gained no traction. Another grumble, blowing her bangs from her face. "Lancelot, I have concluded that you are the sort difficult to share a bed with." She continued disgruntled and clearly lacking adequate rest. "You throw your weight around, mumble incoherently in your sleep, and do not move your hands regardless of how many times you have been elbowed in the stomach. On top of being far too gropey to deal with, your partner would wind up on the floor before the witching hour if it weren't for that damned vice grip! Not to mention you salivate an uncomfortable amount."  
   
"I take it you did not sleep soundly?" She could practically hear the grin in his tone.  
   
"Sir Lancelot I will punch you. Repeatedly. In the kidneys."  
   
In return to the threat, Lancelot buried his face against her neck, ignoring her startled shout. "Good morning to you too, My King."  
   
"You are truly getting off on testing my patience, aren’t you?"  
   
"Considering you just bit me? I feel you have odder interested than I." She tried her hardest to elbow him in the ribs- it hit, but his heckling only carried on. What was he getting from stirring her up? A serious beat down, pretty soon.  
   
"I will happily do it again if it causes you to actually _move_." Arturia hissed, beginning to lose her composure. He was just too… Cuddly.  
   
"Perhaps if you kiss the first one better?" He offered.  
   
"Bite and tear. I’m going to bite and tear."  
   
With that the knight finally released her, and she sprung to her feet as soon as the chance showed itself. "Okay, okay! It concerns me that you are serious with that threat."  
   
"I am a king on the edge, I have places to go and things to unwillingly attend to!" It was almost unhuman the sped that Arturia dove for her clothes- even if they were still damp at this point she wasn't in a state to care, even a thin layer of fabric offered some form of privacy that she greatly appreciated right about now.  
  
"You don't need any assistance?" It felt good to have a laugh in the morning, even if he made no attempt in hiding the fact it was playfully at his king's expense. Someone else probably would have been stabbed by now- really, he was getting close to that limit already. He could feel the glared daggers on his back even as he lazily dressed himself.  
   
"I have had more than enough 'assistance' from you to serve me a lifetime!"  
   
Again, her bristled attitude continued to only remind him of an ill-tempered feline, one who's anger only encouraged you to pat it even more as it hissed. At least all the scrambling from the night prior was good practice, Arturia breaking her own record at how fast she could tie her binds; still muttering bitterly under her breath the entire time. There were a few curse words Lancelot was sure he hadn't heard before. Impressive.  
   
Arturia and Dun Stallion were already racing off by the time Lancelot actually got everything in order, making a mental note to give this damn horse a stern talking to when they came to a stop- and when his king actually managed to stop being so red in the face; from embarrassment or anger, he wasn't entirely sure but it entertained him nonetheless.  
   
Perhaps annoyance, that she still tolerated him as he was able to get away with so much more than anyone not bearing the 'best friend' title ever could. It was not as if throwing fists would deter him at all, whether advances were under humourous pretences or not. Each time he made an inquiry, she would simply pinch anothergyngerbredefrom the twice stolen box, maintaining eye contact each time she ate one. Whatever point she was trying to make was confusing to say the least.  
   
"Oh."  
  
"That is a sound of you saying something I do not wish to hear about." Lancelot's grin did little more than confirm it, Arturia pre-emptively stuffing another treat into her mouth and chewing sullenly.   
   
"Arthur. I must ask, do you and the queen...?"  
  
Arturia quirked a brow, spending a moment analysing his eyes in search of some clarity to what in the world he meant. Do they what? Cook? Enjoy a good book? Go riding toge--- Oh. Well, yes, in a sense.  
   
"I am not comfortable divulging my sex life."  
   
"So there **is** a sex life?"  
  
Arturia tensed, turning her sights back to the road. This trip couldn't be over any faster- she needed some good ale if she was going to be grilled about all of this, and lots of it. Perhaps a barrel or two. Three. "O-of course! It is my duty as her husband...!" The knight tried to choke back a laugh as the cat only continued arching its back. At the rate it was going he was half expecting her to dive over and tackle him off of his horse.  
  
The king cleared her throat, trying to compose herself. It was a poor effort. "I do as I can, but I am sure she longs for the touch of a man. What is there I could possibly do?" She sighed, shoulders slumping and most of her fire becoming extinguished. Lancelot felt guilty, for several reasons, primarily the ones that his king was quite ignorant of. He contemplating questioning about her own longings, if there were any, but even now that felt like pushing things. "I have only made myself sadder about this situation."  
   
There was a pause, and he decided to give her a break. "Does anyone else know?"  
   
"About my bisexual escapades?"  
   
"Arthur!" He managed to nearly fall off of his horse, Quiver not helping matters by leaning his body to try and help him slip. He managed to right himself before the horse could buck him off and trample him. Equine assassins, all of them. "Theother thing!"  
   
"Could not let me stay on top for long, could you?" Arturia raised her hand, more than aware of what was going to leave his mouth. "Don't you dare."  
  
"You can’t blame me, half your words make it too easy to take advantage."  
  
She threw agyngerbrede, full pelt. It hit with a resounding clunk and the knight was forced to pull the steed back from the blunt trauma- overdramatic, Arturia decided as she continued.  
  
"Sir Kay," Well that was a given. Lancelot rubbed the side of his head, his 'kicked-puppy' expression quite good but being wholly ignored as Arturia tapped her chin in thought, putting genuine effort into recounting. "And Sir Bedivere. I feel that Sir Agravain may have his suspicions as well, but he has yet to voice any concerns. Which is quite a thing, given his dislike towards women. Admittedly, I find it a tad flattering if I serve as an exception."  
   
That dull pain completely vanished from the knights mind as the other names met his ears. He felt a sudden flash of heat, skin reddening in undue jealousy. For reasons he couldn't -rather chose not to- place, his gut twisted at the thought of another of the Knights being aware. Before him, of all people. Such a thing shouldn't bother him yet the knot in his stomach had only continued quietly intensifying since the night prior. It was concerning the things you did not notice until given a reason to feel defensive over another person.  
   
"You understand why this must remain a secret." Blinking a few times to clear the fog in his mind, Lancelot nodded in response. This statement, unlike the others was quiet, even with his prior assurance there was still a noticeable, lingering air of fear. "You are dear to me; if you betrayed me it would undoubtedly break me in two."  
   
His stomach knotted in a different way. Wouldn’t it only be a matter of time before she discovered it- not anything that would slip by accident- Guinevere? That was a bridge crossed, he found himself scared of reprimand far more than he had any time before this.  
   
His King smiled warmly, hesitant in her action before leaning the small distance between their horses and kissing his cheek. "Thank you. I hope this will not come between us."  
   
His face reddened further. It already had, in several senses.  
  
"You’re quiet, that's quite a ch---" Arturia was unable to finish her quip, Dun Stallion turning his long body with such force it nearly shook her free of the saddle- and within a moment, Lancelot wasn’t on his.  
  
Apparently Lancelot wasn't the only one who could feel the twists of jealousy, Dun Stallion having taken offense to all this and grabbed the knight by his hair. He really should have cut his hair before this outing, though it was a tad late for that.  
  
There wasn't much more than a quote 'Oh' of realisation from both humans involved, understanding only setting in as the large stallion began making his way towards the opposite cliff-side with his teeth still firmly gripping the knight's dark hair.  
  
"Dun Stallion! **You let him go!!"**  The king pulled the reins uncomfortable tight, Dun Stallion grumbling through a mouthful of hair as Lancelot tried to find his feet, grabbing hold of the beast's snout but still at a complete loss of words. "And not into the damned ravine!!"  
  
The movement had ceased, although Dun Stallion's eyes continued flicking between his rider and the ravine's edge, contemplating his punishment. "Dun Stallion we willnotbe murdering any of my knights, or so help me you will never have barley again!"  
  
"Is that his only punishment?!" Lancelot spluttered, trying to pry his hair from the equine's surprisingly sturdy jaws.  
  
"And," Arturia leaned close to the horse's ear, "I shall give you to Sir Tristan, and I shall never ride you again. I will get a lovely mare and name her Cheryl."  
  
That was enough, Dun Stallion tentatively letting go of Lancelot. He followed the knights earlier example and did his best impression of a scolded pup, head low and walking back along the path.  
Lancelot took an uncomfortable look at how close he'd come to at least a severe injury- the ravine looked like quite a plummet. 'Don’t even think about it' was all he muttered to Quiver as he got back into his saddle, following a healthy distance behind Arturia and that overprotective horse.  
  
"… All that aside…" Arturia spoke with some hesitancy, glancing over her shoulder and watching as her knight slowly, and just as hesitantly, closed more distance between the two steeds. She settled for the most part when he realised just how pathetic he looked, being apprehensive of a damned horse and returning Quiver to the light trot beside the heathen-horse.  
  
"It is quite a weight off my chest, even if I'm simply more concerned now." She glared, "... Stop laughing. I should have let him throw you."  
   
The punch to his shoulder wasn't much compared to the horse's ill-treatment, Lancelot only continuing to laugh as his king bristled again, lip pouted slightly as she dealt with the embarrassment of her miswording. Always on the ball, this man.  
               
"Well then, how much further?" She could still him chuckling under his breath lightly. Arturia simply rolled her eyes and shook her head, cheeks remaining lightly flushed.  
   
She pointed into the distance, the sun having begun to lower already- she hadn't been aware of how much time had burned in the morning while Lancelot did nothing but snore and maintain his vice-grip. Twenty minutes had been a conservative estimation after all. "Just some distance over that hill. It will be nice to sleep upon something comfortable." She shot a glare, receiving a cheeky smile that read 'guilty as charged' bluntly in return. "And on my own."  
   
"I apology for being such a terrible bed fellow!"  
   
"Apologize to the bruises on my hips, I will be feeling it for weeks." A huff, the king straightening her back and turning her head away to ignore him the rest of the trip. "Jerk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fou cameo! And Lowkey Mashu cameo… Dad!Lancelot is one of my favourite things, don’t you judge me. Everything I'm eager to work on is past here- hopefully I won't have issues uploading this time.


	4. Who Can It Be Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After far too much time traveling, the pair finally arrive at their destination. Several new faces, and the meeting with a lord Arturia is not expecting to enjoy.

Lancelot knew better than to ask the woman any questions as they moved through this area- he would either be ignored, or harshly shushed. Her attention was already busy, eyes sharp as a hawks as she surveyed the area with the horses moving at a slow pace. Scrutinising the land was an ability far more fitting of both Arturia and Agravain rather than himself.  
   
There were no doubt reports written up several scores high by the latter already, the king now running over the memorised notes and comparing it all with what she saw now with her own eyes. Not at all off put by the hushed voices and quick glances from those packing up their tools for the night, most somewhat hesitant or in disbelief of whom decided to grace the land, they continued on.  
   
With his king distracted Lancelot took his own silent glances about the place. The region looked fairly stock standard, although he noticed that certain things were lacking in other places- with how far the area ranged out, there did not seem suitable enough farmland. Some of the trodden path earlier looked as it if had had some work done on it, only to be abandoned soon after. There remained a few repairs on the small collection of buildings that jutted forth from the ground, mostly store houses, otherwise everyone was making due with what they had.  
   
His gaze turned to the manor situated off in the distance. It was high, perhaps three stories and quite wide. It was obviously the most impressive building aside from the church to the east, which was no surprise really. Still, it was a tad disheartening seeing its apparent good shape in the setting sun’s light in comparison to some of the cottages and living areas they were now coming up towards.  
   
It continued like this for some time, the primary sound that came to the knights ears being the heavy hooves of the horses against the dirt ground moving steadily onto cobblestone the closer they came to the looming manor. A number of the stalls and vendors amongst the wide streets were either tidying up or had already closed their business for the night, with the large majority buckling down and lightening lanterns for any of the stragglers of the evening. The residents with a few gold coins to rub together usually wondered out in the dusk, keen on the totted beers that varied in qualities offered by the street store owners rather than any of the snacks in stock.  
  
Saddling up to the manor gates Lancelot had at least come to his own conclusion – it was an average place, but around the edges cracks and disrepair were beginning to show. This king’s furrowed brow made it clear that this was not an improvement from the reports handed to her by Agravain- fearing perhaps that Bardolf’s presence was not serving the area well.  
  
If true, it certainly explained her disappointment and disdain about the scenario.  
   
“Ah, I’m sorry Sir Knight—“  
  
He glanced downwards at the young stable boy- even without Quiver, Lancelot easily dwarfed the young lad in height. Although, the boy seemed more hesitant about the guards that flanked either side, there was an obvious tremble present in his stance from the fear of making a mistake.

  
That, more than anything, was what didn’t sit well with the knight. He gave a nod of affirmation, dismounting from his steed and brushing the collected dust raised by the dirt path earlier from his side. The stable-hand hesitated before taking the reins, pairing them in the same hand as Dun Stallion’s before leading them away towards the stables.  
  
The guards had turned their attention to the king now, who stood tall and strong despite her lacking height compared to the steel clad men- it seemed that much was what raised some perplexed expressions from the eyes hidden behind the helms. Relenting finally, standing at their respective posts beside the heavy wooden door and saluting. The entrance gave a heavy creak from its own weight as it opened, Arturia giving only a light nod to the guards as she walked inside. Lancelot followed by her side, unable to overlook how regal she appeared with her cape billowing behind her as her long strides carried her proudly.  
    
“I am surprised Dun Stallion allowed the lad to take him.”  
  
Arturia flicked her gaze towards him only a moment, concentrating on following the manors hallway. It was evident she had to put real effort into keeping herself here, “You did not see the pitiful glances that horse is capable of, then. His big eyes made it look as if he was leaving his mother for the first time.”  
  
“Not at all surprising, you are a hard person to remain separated from.”  
  
The king didn’t break her pace as she hit him upside the head, that metal gauntlet ringing a loud  _tng_  on contact that echoed down the corridor. “I do not have any damned idea what you are after you fool, so kindly give it a rest.”  
  
He contemplated it himself as he rubbed the sore area of his skull. It was a good question that she raised- he had plenty of ideas of his own, but his mouth was dry when he thought of raising them so bluntly. Most of his mannerisms were easy to brush off with a haggard sigh of ‘that’s just Lancelot’, but his own motivations eluded even himself.  
   
At the end of the long corridor another large, heavy door towered against the sturdy wall. Arturia paused, taking a deep breath. As she continued to idle Lancelot wondered just how high she was counting in her head to steady her already aggravated nerves. It was interesting in a way, just how simply being here riled her up so fiercely.  
   
“Alright. Let us make this as quick as possible.” The door opened with a groan similar to the one at the front of the manor, the king making herself as tall as possible when she entered the throne room- her knight loyally shadowing behind.  
   
The room was about as large as she had anticipated, the carpet lush and decorations along the walls giving it an air of liveliness and radiating a deceptively ‘warm’ feeling. A few of the manor’s residents, as high-class and well-bred as they had to be to occupy the area as something other than servants, lined up along beside the plush rug like unsure guards. Their unease was understandable given who they were seeing today, even if Arturia held herself in little regard when her title was not involved.  
   
Bardolf himself was seated comfortably upon the throne, something that was difficult for the king not to find distasteful. The large man sat with one leg resting over other the other knee, leaning back lazily while his lips curled to an excited smile. His hair was brown and slightly wispy, hints of facial hair that was carefully attended to with a strong sense of vanity. Those bright blue eyes would inspire, if he had not already obtained the reputation the he had. Arturia would like to think her thoughts unfounded, but there was an internal instinct that would not allow her to shake them.  
   
On either side of the ‘Lord’ were two other individuals- the manor’s lady, and a younger looking man respectively. If it was any guess, the man was this manor’s reeve- his appearance rang no recognition with Arturia, and must have been placed by the manor instead of being appointed by her.  
   
There was a shift in the air as those in front and the lady of the manor bowed in Arturia’s presence- Bardolf gave a shallow nod, while the reeve’s eyes remained elsewhere- a sense of disinterest if it had to be named, whether from the lord’s impending words or the king’s appearance wasn’t quite as easy to place. The distance towards the throne was closed as the first few words left the man in the spotlight-  
   
“Finally, welcome Arthur! Honestly, I was expecting you much sooner than this. Did the roads not treat you well?”  
   
The attempted friendliness had no effect, the king’s eyes only dulling as she tried her best to avoid displaying her disgust. “‘Your Majesty’ is acceptable, Bardolf.” Lancelot saw the man slouch noticeably in his thrown, discomfort flashing on his features before hiding it behind another grin. “We took time to admire the local area. The resources here are vast, I expect the lord to make good use of them. In regards to yourself however, I do intend to inspect how you have been holding the fort in your brother’s absense.”  
   
Lancelot leaned down, whispering into the woman’s ear. “My King, be calm. You appear unapproachable with such sharp words.”  
   
Bardolf took that moment to collect himself, moving with his posture still slouched with his elbows resting on his knees. “I apologize for my casualness, Your Majesty! You simply seem so much more relaxed than the usual lout that comes by.”  
   
“Sir Agravain is an acquired taste when company is involved, this is true. He has not steered me wrong, however, so I trust his observations wholeheartedly.” A pause, Arturia taking a moment to survey the others presented at the head of the room. Her gaze shifted back to Bardolf expectantly, her lips thin as she cast the best neutral expression she was capable of.  
   
“Ah, yes! Introductions, I’m sorry Art-“ Bardolf quickly bit his tongue, although was not blind to the annoyance on the kings face. “Your Majesty, this lovely woman is my wife, Molle.”  
   
A tad apprehensive of the spotlight, the lady of the Manor curtsied. Her face was still fairly youthful despite her mature age, the women clearly having wanted for naught- even more-so following her marriage. Black hair with a natural bounce to it, it helped bring out the rich colours of her garments. Even with her hands covered with silk gloves, Arturia imagined that her skin was soft without having experienced the labours of work. Her steel-blue eyes hinted at hidden hardships, the king already concluding to not be anywhere near as intrusive with her as the others if she was allowed time to speak with her alone.  
   
“And my eldest, Jankin.”  
   
The disinterested man responded to his name with a lacklustre half-smile which quickly left his face. His hair was brown and slick, the same colour as his fathers if not ruffled in the same manner. His eyes radiated a deep green, as sharp as his features while he turned his gaze to the pair. Physically handsome, such an ill-bred temperament was a deal breaker.   
**  
** “A pleasure, your Majesty.” He sighed, spoken in a deep voice that only continued to carry over the ‘bored’ expression. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with that- a sharp tongue and bristled exterior was practically a trademark of Sir Agravain after all. There was simply an aura about the man, with his raised chin and downcast eyes that questioned after every sentence. Lancelot held his gaze, challenging with his hackles raised before being pulled to attention by Arturia.   
**  
** Noticing Lancelot’s intense stare she had raised to the balls of her feet and scolded him quietly. “Behave, it is you who looks unapproachable now.”  
   
He growled lowly, teeth clenched tightly shut. “ _Good._ ”  
   
Bardolf cleared his throat, “The next meeting of court will be in several days. When the date is decided, I will have someone inform you- that is if you wish to attend, of course. There’s no need to bother you if you’re dis-“

  
“Very much so.” Arturia clicked her tongue, immediately halting the man’s attempt to worm his way out of her future observations. “How a ‘Lord’ holds himself among his peers is one way to judge his abilities. I do not wish to be disappointed, Bardolf.”  
   
The man laughed nervously, further uncomfortable as the king continued to be unswayed. “Well! Moving on past such things,” He returned to leaning against the throne, that frustrating smirk returning as he felt a hint of power over the situation immerge. “As for accommodations during your stay, I’m afraid I can offer all but one room. The ladies here have family visiting and such, we simply don’t have the space! Poor timing, I suppose.”  
   
“That will suffice. I have been restless as of late, so I am not averse to sleeping in shifts.” Arturia looked up towards Lancelot, the knight nodding in quiet agreement to the proposal. Satisfied with this she turned back to Bardolf, her glare sharp as her tone shifted to become even more foreboding. “I should warn you, if anything happens to my horse, it shall be your head.”  
   
Bardolf flinched, trying to read the king’s face for a hint of humour. His stomach became queasy when he found none. “Of course, of course…! In the meantime, Jankin, would you please show the king and his companion to their room?”  
   
A bored hum of acceptance, Jankin’s hands remained behind his back as he walked swiftly from his position and past the pair. “Please, follow me Your Majesty.”  
   
The remaining people gathered bowed, continuing to not utter a word as the two departed.  
   
The air remained icy as they followed cautiously. The silence was broken only minutely by a question hinting with impatience from Bardolf’s son. “How long do you intend to grace us with your presence?” Lancelot’s hackles raised at the tone, shifting closer to Arturia instinctively as his protectiveness over his king only heightened.  
  
“I do not think it will take long to come to a decision, so please inform your father not to set aside extensive provisions. We will not dine here tonight; I would rather see what is offered by the stalls locally, see how everything is… Recovering.”  
   
“Very well.”  
   
The silence returned until they arrived, the reeve halting and turning to the pair as icy as he had been since they had first seen him. “This is your room. I hope it shall be to your liking.” He turned on his heels, swift in his leave as he disappeared down one of the numerous halls.  
   
“I appreciate those that don’t kiss my ass, but I am not fond of being heckled into giving into demands.” Arturia’s voice was quiet, yet Lancelot’s ears picked up the anger hidden within it.  
   
“It seems like an insulting sort of logic.”  
   
“Perhaps he finds me to be a pushover? I will play this game and win it, if he is choosing to challenge me.”  
   
 “I expect a good show from you, Arthur.”  
**  
**

* * *

  
 “It is certainly quaint.”  
   
The statement wasn’t wrong. The small guestroom was lightly furnished, the window’s doors could be closed to keep the cold gusts out and the delicately woven silk tapestries that decorated the walls did add a particular comfort to the place. Of course, room size aside, the real issue was the one room had one bed.  
   
“Half an hour in, and he is already trying my patience.” Arturia rubbed her temples, breathing in deeply and trying to drown out her internal scream that was welling up in her chest. “Might I point out the several other, fairly vacant looking rooms we passed on the way here.”  
   
“I could beat him up if you wish?” Lancelot’s was surprised that his offer wasn’t met with another hard thump against his body, leaving him quietly thankful that she seemed to be contemplating the offer a moment- in good humour or in seriousness, it didn’t change things much.  
   
“I would much rather have that privilege for myself. The sun must set at some point, after all.”  
   
“Surely there is a convenient well outside the manor’s walls…”

  
A deep, forlorn sigh exhaled as Arturia flopped down against the bed, her arms crossed as she glared at the dully coloured ceiling. “A vacant ditch would serve better. I am sure my prejudice is getting the best of me here.”  
   
The knight stood at the side of the bed, leaning his body slightly to look down at his exhausted king. “Other than being ill prepared, I have not seen anything to back up your bitterness about this situation.”  
   
Arturia shifted uneasily. “There are a few… Situations that are perhaps hearsay, and it is difficult to discern them as either fact or grumblings from Agravain’s reports. If it is all disproven, I will hold the man in considerably higher standards.” There was a pause as Arturia closed her eyes, thinking on the matter. It was hard to explain; it was not a matter of inexperience but a lack of uncaring towards how things were run outside of the manor. It would be some time to view the results, and she only hoped that Lancelot would bear with her through this. “Regardless, I can deal with the rooming situation... As long as the walls do not leak. I am tired of finding myself soaked to the bone. What a miserable journey thus far…”  
   
Her eyes shot open when she felt the indent of weight against the bedding, Lancelot uncomfortably close to her yet again. “I am not against continuing to keep you warm at night, should you need me.”  
   
She bristled once more, something she was doing more often than she cared to admit over the last few days. “You are not helpin—“  
   
The door to the room gave the manor’s trademark creak as it slowly slid open- at the first hint of the sound Arturia did possibly the best attempt at a commando roll that had been acted out in some time, throwing herself towards the window and opening the small doors to the rush of cold wind.  
   
Unsurprisingly, Lancelot was busy laughing like a hyena at the panicked reaction- he should have been thankful, given he himself had frozen at the moment.  
   
“Not what I expected to hear comin’ in!” The door had been pushed open haphazardly, one of the young servants of the manor having pushed it open with her hip- hands busy carrying several things that rested most of their weight on her shoulders. Their things, if the canvas bags and insignia were any hint to Lancelot. “Oh hey, how’s the bed?”  
   
Lancelot stifled the laughter long enough to compose himself, sitting up and moving to have his boots off the side of the bed. “Fairly comfy, but my king seems to have a distaste for it.” His voice showed a hint of breaking again as the grin returned to his face, Arturia glaring sharply in his direction.  
   
“I have distaste for your belonging as well, this window looks sufficient enough to drop such objects from. Or people.” The king’s warning was blunt, although Lancelot raised his hand.  
   
“I think I have made several points already about what you would miss out on if you decided to off me, my king. Such as my fabulous company.”  
   
Arturia turned to observe the girl, taking any alternative to giving Lancelot validation for his remarks. The girl was dainty and young, bouncing lightly on her heels with eagerness to be of service. Helping carry luggage in obviously wasn’t her job, but she had wrestled the duty from the lad behind her fair and square. Her energy made her particularly cute- her blonde hair was darker than the king’s own, hazel eyes bright and reflecting every ounce of light that shimmered across them.  
   
The young stable hand was one who was older than the small one that had met them upon their arrival, had bowed his head apologetically. He only carried a few small possessions that had been left in the saddlebags prior to this- the Gyngerbrede box was one of these items, and Arturia had the immediate urge to reach for it and eat her frustrations away.  
   
“S-sorry, once Aubrey gets an idea in her head she just goes off barrelin’ through anything getting in her way.” Shifting the box into his other hand the young lad rubbed the bruise on his side- “People included, to my sad dismay.”  
   
“Not my fault you wouldn’t le’go of any of it!” The young lady turned, quickly shooting off some remarks in a hurried fashion, both the king and the knight having to strain to try and make out any of the quips- it was for naught though, most of the words either too quick or too fragmented to understand.  
   
There was a certain slew of her words that made her ancestry obvious- it rallied a smile from Arturia, impressed that she’d have to have worked fairly hard to obtain work in the manor. The small gesture was caught as Aubrey turned midsentence back to them, the girl stumbling over her words at the sight and glancing downwards at her hands; embarrassed in a sense by the soft smile of the king, her cheeks were visibly flushed even while her face was downcast.  
   
Arturia strolled back to the bedside as Lancelot rose, patting his shoulder roughly. “Good luck settling that one down.” She waved her hand dismissively as the knight snorted something quietly about always being given the hard jobs.  
   
The girl gingerly held out the luggage she’d carried in, Arturia tilting her head slightly in her direction. “Sir Lancelot, would you kindly pack everything away?” With a nod he took the extended items, the king crossing her arms as she gave a moment of thought. “I think I will have a quick walk around the site.”  
   
The younger blonde pepped up, immediately shaken out of her stupor. “Oh! I could show you around!” She was quick to offer this, although Arturia shook her head.  
   
“Thank you, but it is best I make the notes myself. I do not mind getting lost around a few corners.”  
   
“O-okay, I understand, s-sorry my lord.” The girl was really up and down…  
   
Arturia lightly patted the girls head, ruffling her hair lightly and being careful to not pinch any strands with the metal of her gauntlet. “There is no need to apologize for being courteous. I could just do with my solitude for a few minutes.” The girl pepped right back up yet again, vigor returning to her sway. Arturia turned her gaze towards Lancelot as she noted the worried expression that flashed across his face. “And you- do not look at me like that. I will not be attacked by rabid dogs while I am away.”  
   
Lancelot cleared his throat – Arturia was doing well pinpointing peoples hesitations today. “It is more another dreadful pond incident that I worry about; several hours might elapse before you come back with a snack.” The light humour was met with another whop upside the head, the servant and stable lad both leaning back with an ‘oooo….’ as another  _clank_  echoed into the air. Both apparently surprised at how quickly the knight recovered, quietly wondering if this was a frequent occurrence between the two.  
   
“My King, I may be comatose by the end of this trip if you continue unjustly beating me so mercilessly.”  
   
“It would save me a considerable amount of strife,” She raised her hand again, almost disappointed that it didn’t summon even a hint of a flinch from the knight. She turned towards the stable hand, gesturing for the few supplies he still had in his possession, quietly noting to herself how much lighter the Gyngerbrede box was now in comparison to earlier that morning. The man must be grating on her more than she had realized…  
   
The lad bowed again- she gave a polite nod, taking the small bags from him before the boys shaking hands managed to drop them onto the floor. Over her time spent as king, she had become quite used to the nervous reaction to her presence. “I apologize for interrupting your usual work.” That warm smile had returned, having just as much effect on the lad as it did Aubrey. “I appreciate the assistance; you did not need to trouble yourself with something so menial.”

  
The stable hand vigorously shook his head. “N-no, it’s fine your majesty...! It wasn’t a problem, Br-Bre has everything else so it was a really short trip!” He paused, trying not to stumble over the rest of his words- the king had raised the back of her hand to her mouth, trying to hide her smile at the scene.  
   
He turned, swiftly exiting before he embarrassed himself trying to make up for all that.  
   
Continuing to stifle a chuckle Arturia rested the items on the bed, leaving them for Lancelot to sort out with the rest of their belongings. She gave another nod as a farewell, leaving for the door-  
   
“Be safe.”  
   
She paused at the door frame, looking over her shoulder. The sincerity of the knight’s statement caught her off guard a moment, seeing the man’s expression match with a hint of worry.  
   
“Fear not, if it suits you I promise to avoid all bodies of water until you can join me for a swim.”  
  
The king gave it all a few moments thought before picking a direction on moving onward- nothing set in concrete, writing the passages in her mind as she went. Her memory rarely showed any fault, best practiced when learning through experience. Moving around alone kept trial-and-error from becoming unappealing- in the back of her mind she could still hear Lancelot making quips about whether she had assigned names to all of the dead-ends by now. Arturia herself was more amused by the number of doors she saw in each hall, although a hint of optimism kept her thinking that perhaps they were all in fact occupied- doubtful, but Lancelot calling out her hastened distain had her trying to view things in a more lenient light. It wasn’t an easy feat.  
   
There was a decent amount of progress made before the king rounded another corner, slowing her steps a fraction as she surveyed the pair at the opposite end of the hall. That Reeve, Jankin, and one of the manor’s servants in particularly close proximity- if the woman minded having him close with her back pressed against the wall, the pink tinge on her cheeks and fluttering eyelashes didn’t show it. Not a hint of shying away as the man’s gloved hand played with her hair – it was sweet in a way if that was all to it, the royal noted. He may be a standoffish man, but such been can still be gentlemen.  
   
Regardless it was no business of Arturia’s- However, she had no intention of altering her track just to avoid the pair. Her presence remained unnoticed, the two caught up in their discussion.  
   
“---Should anything unsightly happen, I would hate to lose someone like you, dear.” The man’s disagreeable temperament did not seem to extend to the fairer sex- Arturia laughed internally at the momentary thought that the gent was like a reverse Agravain.  
   
As she continued on her way Arturia made sure to add an additional heaviness to her steps, the clink of her boots catching the reeve’s attention. Seeing the king Jankin’s expression immediately soured, leaning his body back a fraction away from the servant.  
   
While the man’s body stood rigid Arturia was still relaxed in her movements, somehow the king’s demeanour managed to ruffle him worse. “There is no need to assail the poor woman simply for my sake, I am not doubtful that I will be treated well by your staff.” The jest was obvious with the king’s expression, though she remained unsurprised when it did not lessen the reeve’s expression.   
   
“Pardon King, I was sure I showed you to your room.” Blunt words, a detected hint of venom in his tone even with such a deadpan expression. Arturia raised her chin, accepting the challenge. Whatever the coiled snake’s issue was, she did not fear his strike.  
   
“Yes, but as is my flight of fancy I chose to wonder. I will not judge the fancies of your own, Reeve, but I would appreciate that you wait for a transgression before revoking respect that you have of me.”  
   
The woman shrunk down slightly, uneasy with the growing electricity in the air. If her exit was not all but blocked by the reeve’s body she would have excused herself at the first sight of the king; not through disrespect, but an anxious anticipation of Jankin’s response.  
   
He was forced to be tame in his reply, although made no attempt to hide his annoyed sneer. “All must earn my respect, regardless of standing.”  
   
Arturia snorted, disappointed yet amused.  “That is a dreadfully self-entitled notion. Quite childish, a pity really.” The king bowed her head to the woman, still with her back against the wall. “I apologize for interrupting; I hope that we shall speak in a more relaxed light in our next meeting- As you were, my lady.”  
   
Arturia gave no more attention to the man, already off put by their interaction.

 

The rest of the exploration went on without any further issues, the king finding herself drawn through the labyrinth to the manor’s kitchen. Between the haze of steam and sweat built up upon brows it took a few moments before anyone realized who stood observing at the door. Several pots nearly dropped or tipped over in the process, and adamant apologies from the king swiftly followed the clattering of cutlery.  
   
Several compliments about the aroma and the look of the food raised spirits immensely, Arturia quietly struggling with her decision to not dine there that night. It was by no means a distrust of the food being served, just the fact that she had no patience to be sweet-talked (or coerced with benefits, seemingly) that night. She was already dealing with a fair bit from her companion, as accustom to his playful side as she was.  
   
Satisfied and efficiently retracing her steps, Arturia returned to her designated room, confident with the map forged and stored away in the back of her memory. There was no clutter on returning, aside from the male sitting on the bed with his arms crossed and brow knitted.  
   
Without a task to occupy him his mind always seemed to wonder, for better or worse. In normal circumstances he would seek out something to do, find some sort of stimuli; these weren’t options for this place, so he only sat and worried.  
  
Seeing his eyes dulled as his mind worked away over whatever troubled him ironically just caused Arturia in turn to quietly fret for his wellbeing. If something was causing him concern, surely he would bring it up to her- it still caused a prang of worry within her, no matter how far she tried to push it aside in her mind.  
   
He glanced up slowly, apparently having expected another of the castles servants. His smile was light, but it was reassuring. “Welcome back, my king. Did you find any passages leading underground into depraved debauchery?”  
   
“I am afraid you are out of luck! I am sure you will find your own entertainment; the women here have a particular loveliness about them.” She sat on the edge of the bed, lying back and stretching lazily with her arms behind her head.  
   
“Your opinion on me is depressingly low, my lord.” The knight prodded her side; she shuffled away from the intrusion.  
   
“Ah but you do not argue with me, do you?”  
   
“I trust your taste in women. I expect to have a few pointed out.”  
   
“If we are caught admiring you will bear the blame. A king cannot be mistaken for a common pervert.”  
   
“‘Mistaken for’ indicates that you are in fact not one to begin with.” At that Arturia swung her hand out, grabbing hold of one of the fluffed pillows beside her and pelted it against the knight’s frame- it made a nice change to the hard taste of steel.  
   
“Name me one occasion!”  
   
“I can name two, the last two nights you spent naked did you not? One beside me, at that!” No matter how much force the king put into hitting him with the plush it wasn’t going to be any way effective of wiping the grin off of his face.  
   
“That was at your behest you rogue!!” She huffed, rolling onto her stomach and pressing her face against the soft weapon. She grumbled a few moments against the covering, “This is on the list of things you will not let go, isn’t it…?”  
   
A hollow knock against the door caught both of their attentions, Arturia for the second time that day quickly trying to right herself to a more presentable stance. She was upright and seated just as the door creaked open, the lady of the manor peeking in.  
   
“I’m sorry to disturb you my king, but supper will be ready soon.” Lady Molle read Arturia’s perplexed expression, continuing. “The Lord has requested for you and your knight to join us.”  
   
“Thank you, but I informed Jankin earlier that I did not wish to do as such.” Arturia rose, bowing her head slightly in apology, “Please give your husband my regards, but we shall dine elsewhere tonight.”  
   
Molle excused herself quietly, closing the door softly behind her. Lancelot followed Arturia’s lead and rose. “That is our cue to move out then?” His hands moved to her shoulders, adjusting the heavy cape that had become askew during her quiet temper tantrum.  
   
Arturia brushed her bangs aside as she allowed him to do so. “Yes, before any pestering has a chance to take place. Truthfully I’ve been puckish since stumbling into the kitchen earlier, it is staffed quite well…”  
   
“I am not surprised, you have been eating rather… Lightly? No, no, not quite right…” The knight tapped his chin trying to think of the words as they moved to the door to take their leave- he relied mostly on Arturia’s observations to figure out where the exit was. “In comparison, you are not as miserable as I thought you would be on an empty stomach.”  
   
The king’s stomach rumbled loudly- It was probably unhappy being reminded about just how many calories it had missed since the start of their journey.   
   
“That is not very ladylike, Arthur.” Lancelot shifted just a fraction to avoid the elbow to his ribs. The feline-like king bristled once more and shouldered her way through the door.  
   
“Aren’t we lucky that I am a king?” She would have glared, but she was busy wiping the salivation from the corner of her mouth. The scent that had since filled the halls smelled heavenly, and her body yearned for a meal that didn’t consist of snacks or small wildlife. “I do wish I had thought this plan through earlier.”  
   
“Not a place to dine, I fear. Although it does sound like a good opportunity to inspect some of the towns wares! Are you sure you do not wish to reconsider?” Ever so optimistic, Lancelot followed Arturia’s lead as she recalled the twists and turns she had memorized.  
   
“No, I have already made my choice- we will find another place to eat. To go back on my decision does not sit well with me at all. Several of the vendors looked to be open late, so I am hopeful even if it costs quite a few coin...”  
   
“Oh heeeey~” The pair paused, glancing around the corner. The young servant from earlier gave a light wiggle of her fingers as a greeting, “Hello again sirs! I couldn't help overhearing...”  
   
“Couldn't help eavesdropping?” Lancelot quickly corrected, feeling Arturia lean against his side.  
   
Aubrey scratched the back of her head, humming cheerfully. “Yeah that works better. N’anyway, I thought it’d be right to offer something to the king and all, even if it ain’t all that much.”  
   
“If you are offering bread, then I will graciously accept.” Arturia didn’t miss a beat, jumping in as soon as the last word left the girls lips. Lancelot snorted, nudging her roughly.  
   
“… You are shameless when you are hungry, my lord.”  
   
She glanced up with cheeks puffed, momentarily forgetting the company with Lancelot retreating a fraction away. “If it were not frowned upon I would probably eat you right now.” Arturia raised her hand as soon as she spotted the glint in Lancelot’s eye. “I’m shameless?! Come closer so I can hit you again!”  
   
The girl did her best not to laugh. “Whoa that’s a lotta tension! But ah, no bread!” While Arturia became less worked up, her shoulders slumped, disappointment obvious. Aubrey rushed to continue, “I-I can do better! I hope, think maybe. Okay it’s not me, it’s mama but still! I come from a family of cottagers, I managed to convince my lord to allow me to return home for a visit, rather than do the nightly rounds.”  
   
Arturia nodded, listening intently.  
   
“So I was thinking maybe you’d put up with some of our food? I mean it’s nothing royal or overly great like here but, uhm…” Her voice began to lower as more words were spoken, the young woman quickly coming to second guess herself as if the realisation of just who she was speaking to engulfed her general enthusiasm. She quickly raised her head, playing with her fingers once more as she began stammering an apology- one quickly cut off by the king.  
   
“I graciously accept. Thank you for offering, especially given that it is at such short notice.” Just as she had earlier Arturia reached her arm out, gently brushing her fingers across the crown of the girl’s blonde hair. “We will try not to arrive too late, although I do need to have a look around the town beforehand.”  
   
Aubrey perked up, whether from confirmation or the king’s soft touch was difficult to discern. “Ah, really?! G-great! I gotta get home an’ tell mum! I… See yas both soon yeah!” No word would fit in edgewise after that, the servant darting off down one of the halls at a speed that took them both off guard.  
   
“She is certainly spirited. Are you sure that is the right choice?”  
                                                                        
“I refuse to be responsible for shattering a young lady’s heart. That is usually your job.”  
   
“I must mention you were the one talking about eating me.”  
   
“I meant in an unpleasant way, you beast! Besides, I refuse to believe I would fall submissive in that matter.” The huffy demeanour returned- Lancelot got too much joy in toying with his dear friend. His snickering only made her more embarrassed by her own words- “Not a word, you are truly horrible Lancelot.

 

* * *

  
   
Bardolf drummed his fingers against the table, fidgeting in his obvious impatience. The words were still registering, even if now it was twice he had heard it. First from his son, now as words from his wife.  
   
There was something dreadfully bitter about being denied. Even for something small like this- he hadn’t planned on giving any special treatment to the situation, but it was disheartening nonetheless. The food lay out on the long table, extravagant as it was every night didn’t hold much appeal to the man anymore. Most of it would likely be left for the crows after being passed around the servant quarters.    
   
It wasn’t a break in his usual regime, but the crowned guest didn’t need to know that. Not that he would see it  _now_.  
   
“Father, that look is similar to when a woman rejects you.”  
   
Bardolf leaned back in his chair, grumpy yet defeated. Idly swirling the goblet in his hand, he looked to his wife for reassurance. She simply shrugged and continued with the meal as he sighed. “And yet, it feels eerily close.”  
   
Jankin rolled his eye, lightly grinding his teeth. “Why are you upset? You were just going to attempt at blackmailing yet again.”  
   
“Informing him I could secure better provisions if I was lord is not blackmail!” The man chirped, boot resting against edge of the table as he took a swig of his wine, “It's simply hopeful hinting. You have much to learn my boy.”  
   
“Well I would appreciate you hurry along with whatever you are attempting to do. Those two rub me the wrong way, especially that knight. I can’t  _read him_. It makes me uncomfortable...”  
                                                                                                                                               
                           
                   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Arturia and Lancelot checking out women together entertains me to no end.


	5. Dreamer (Filler)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little filler- basically one of Lancelot's dreams I didn't shove in somewhere else-, not canon in the storyline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little dream that doesn't fit quite anywhere now, but felt like a cute idea. A sort of good luck thing to myself with a job trial in… 12 hours of getting started. I'm a bit too nervous to sleep. So it's not fantastic, but it's something short to try and calm my nerves down a bit.
> 
> Yeah Dadalot is my personal cheer for myself. Whether it works or not is anyone's guess haha.
> 
> Keeping it all in italics to make it known it's one of Lancelot's dreams, and not going on during the active timeline.

_“It is odd, though- you of all people are rarely so uneasy about girls.”_  
  
_Fretting was not something commonly seen with Lancelot, by all means his hesitant and stressed motions made no attempt to mask his anxiousness of the situation. Several minutes earlier both Bedivere and Agravain had given up pointing out (in mild annoyance from the latter) that the man was tapping his foot incessantly. Either one was seated beside him, so it was not a sound easy to ignore._  
  
_In retrospect it was probably a far better reaction of his than the pacing, halted a number of times only after he’d been pushed back to sitting by one or the other. He had rung his hands so often and so tightly that his skin threatened to bruise if he did not find some other way to work through this._  
  
_Eventually it was the high-strung man himself that spoke, his voice momentarily lacking the usual confidence it boasted. “And what if she hates me?”_  
  
_A snort from the black-haired knight- “If she has any sense, she will.”_  
  
_“Agravain!” Bedivere’s scolding was met with only a dismissive grunt. His smile was sympathetic, the blonde male patting Lancelot’s shoulder. “It will be fine, if you keep worrying like this you may simply drop—”_  
  
_Cutting off the knights words was a loud, shrill cry- it was something very distinct, the recognition of it essentially built into humans and could not be mistaken for anything else. The source could only come from the one cause of Lancelot’s panic; a newborn._  
  
_He immediately jumped up, but both of his companions had already grabbed a respective side of him and forced him back to his seat- and so his stress continued ten fold, his body slouched forward with his head in his hands doing his damnedest not to rush in there. The wait had shifted from frustrating to agonizing._  
  
_It was only minutes before the sound finally quietened, leaving nothing to drown the sound of the door opening. All three heads whipped up expectantly, wary of any news. The doorway remained occupied by Merlin, chipper than ever pointing out for Lancelot to follow._  
  
_Finally, not stopped from getting to his feet he didn’t miss a beat catching up to the other as the door shut, the two remaining knights slouching back in their chairs._  
  
_For the most part Lancelot was indifferent towards the mage- Merlin was the sort far too good at pushing everyone else’s buttons for a laugh, but he had to admit that he usually got a chuckle out of half the fiascos, so it certainly wasn’t a relationship of disdain between them._  
  
_This was not something that prevented him from saying anything negative to Lancelot, of course._  
  
_“Best to let you know there is… a slight problem.”_  
  
_Not anything anyone wished to hear in this situation. A majority of men would fall into further panic at those words, but perhaps due to the tight ball of emotions already bound up in his chest the knight’s response was far more fierce, grabbing hold of the mage’s front and his anger flaring. “What the hell did you do?! You were in charge of looking after them!!”_  
  
_The enchanter raised his hand, no signs of being intimidated as he scolded him with a fairly entertained smile. “Now now, calm down papa wolf! Such a mean face won’t be a good thing.” He eased Lancelot’s fingers off of his robes, although it was difficult. “Everyone’s quite fine and dandy! Fatigued as anything, but I’d give everyone a clear bill of health. Besides, this whole mess is your fault.”_  
  
_The knight’s shoulders slouched, aggression still worked up in his tense body. “Then what is wrong…?”_  
  
_“I’m sure you’ll be smart enough to put two and two together,” The mage turned his body, humming cheerfully as he opened the door at the end of the short hall. “I don’t want to keep everyone separated much longer, anyway. I’m not one to impeach on bonding time!”_  
  
_Admittedly the tinge of annoyance was more welcome than everything else had been, Lancelot pushing past before the nervousness had the chance to overcome him._  
  
_Most was taken care of- the room had never been crowded, given how secretive the entire situation was. If it didn’t feel as if they were backed into a corner about the whole thing, Lancelot may have been a tad more against having had Merlin basically be a midwife._  
  
_Arturia was of course worn out, half-awake but thankfully comfortable on one of the few beds in the maternity area, her blonde hair dishevelled and face still flushed from the effort of it all. The tearstains on her cheeks were finally beginning to dry, her composure having returned some time earlier. She was entirely unaware of the two entering; her attention more preoccupied with admiring the tiny being nestled against her chest, deafened to sounds other than the light cooing of her child suckling._  
  
_Seeing Arturia, Lancelot hadn’t spared a second moving to her side, completely uncaring about anything else but the two- it was only the scrapping of the chair he pulled up that finally tugged Arturia from her own thoughts, raising her eyes to him with obvious relief._  
  
_Arturia’s smile was weak, most of the energy she had remaining was reserved for fighting off sleep. Even as tired as she was, she wasn’t ready to close her eyes yet- it was far too soon to be separated from the small bundle, and her knight’s appearance instilled some well needed pep back into her. As Lancelot sat beside her, she rested her head against his shoulder, savouring the support._   
  
_He rested an arm around her, the other hovering hesitantly above the pink blanket. Earlier thoughts re-emerged. ‘What if she hates me?’ He lowered his hand, Arturia tilting her head slightly in confusion as he paused, contemplating something else to ask._  
  
_“Oh? Where is Guin?”_  
  
_Arturia laughed softly, glancing to the other side of the room that had the spare bed- occupied. “She, understandably, passed out.”_  
  
_“Oh.” Sure enough, the poor queen was certainly not awake at that moment in time, one arm and leg hanging over the side of the bed making it clear she’d sat down herself ‘just to catch my breath’ before promptly losing consciousness. Poor lass._  
  
_“That being said, it is a good thing you were not here earlier…”_  
  
_“That horrific? You and I both know Guinevere has her dramatic moments.”_  
  
_“I distinctly remember yelling how I was going to violently butcher you for ‘doing this to me’.” Hearing this Lancelot leaned back slightly, half expecting that venom to remain despite Arturia’s calmed tone. “I officially do not wish child birth upon my worst enemies.”_  
  
_“Personally I would save that threat for after… Hmm, the third, maybe our forth.”_  
  
_“You will be lucky if I ever allow you to touch me again-“ She winced slightly, body still just as sore as she was tired. Trying to relax, she gently shifted the bundle in her arms- who in turn gave a disgruntled whimper at being pulled away- and just as softly shifting the blankets. “But this is not about me right now.”_  
  
_The small child fussed, little arms stretching and showing just how uncoordinated a newborn was. Eyes fully alert, if she was a bit older the accusatory look could have been mistaken as asking ‘Why would you do this to me, mother?’ If earlier proved anything she had a very good set of lungs- but, there was no hiding the ‘problem’._  
  
_He had thought it to just be a shade from the blanket covering the small babe, but the light tuff of hair made it very obvious what Merlin had mentioned._  
  
_“Pink?” There was a good deal of surprise in both his tone and his eyes, although as the shock wore down it was difficult not to melt at the sight of his daughter, as grumpy as she looked right now. His hesitation disappeared, free hand taking hold of her small one- instinctively the girl’s tiny fingers curled around one of his, eyes glancing up and now taking in all the features of the new person that appeared._  
  
_“Lancelot,” Arturia’s voice was serious, Lancelot meeting her gaze as he tried to listen to both the child’s light babbling as well as the concerned words of the king. “That colour is not from me- Nor Guinevere. That lie is not going to hold up, and… I am a little scared.”_  
  
_His eyes fell, mind swimming with conflicted emotions. If only all of this wasn’t as complicated as it was…_  
  
_He just wanted to be selfish for that moment, allow the pride he felt to become stronger, sit blissfully in that moment. To kiss Arturia, tell her how he loved her- that it was his job to sort this entire problem out. That the three… Now four of them, could be, and damn well would be, happy._  
  
_His hand shifted to lightly stroke the girl’s light hair, her small hands now fighting to grab hold of his palm once more. “Merlin, can you not simply change the colour of her hair? Even if just an illusion of some sort…”_  
  
_“I could!” Both parents pepped up at this, but that smile the mage wore was always a give away about his intentions. “What do you suggest, purple to match the father’s?”_  
  
_Lancelot’s jaw clenched. “Arturia, I am going to stab him.”_  
  
_“Just not in front of the baby, please.” Arturia sighed, exasperated._  
  
_“Are you sure? She may find it entertaining. Perhaps it would be better to wait for Guinevere to weigh in on it.”_  
  
_Merlin cleared his throat, arms crossed and for a second he appeared serious as well- only a second, unfortunately. “Well it’s all simple, we can either say 'Hey everyone so turns out Lancelot slept with the queen and it's not Arthur's' or 'So turns out the king's a woman and slept with a knight, who knew?'.”_  
  
_“Those are both dreadful ideas.” Arturia groaned._  
  
_“Running away isn’t an option, is it?” There was a degree of hopefulness in Lancelot’s voice, even if it was an entirely hopeless suggestion. His turn to sigh, placing his arms carefully around his two girls and holding them close. “We will figure something out, when you are rested Arturia.”_  
  
_His eyes again turned to his child, nuzzling up against her mother once again and making what she wanted fairly obvious. “I suppose I can’t nickname her piglet just yet. Dear, did you have a name in mind?”_  
  
_There was a stirring from the other bed, the pretty brunette rubbing the dust from her vibrant hazel eyes as she managed to push herself up slightly, a moment passing as she gained her bearings. Those bright eyes focused more as she smiled softly despite her grogginess- “Mm, well if you two are indecisive, I’ve had something in mind…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M'kay ArturiaxLancelotxGuinevere might also be the other thing to cheer me up haha. So pardon for any typos and odd wording, had fun working on this regardless of how silly the whole thing probably is.
> 
> It's also about 7 hours from now agh

**Author's Note:**

> This has been fun to work on, started on a whim since there's not enough love of the ship- and Iove tossing in humour and shenanigans. Dorks are cute and so's conflicted Lancelot. Most of the stuff I'm looking forward to are understandably beyond this point.
> 
> I have about six other chapters outlined and ready to work on-   
> They do get to their destination, for the record. Bardolf won't deal with himself- unfortunately. I can't say I have a proper 'end' in sight, but here's hoping that pops up before I work away at the remaining ideas I have.  
> I'll probably update/edit tags and summaries when I actually figure out what the hell.   
> Rambling over.


End file.
